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THE ROMAUNT 



OF 



Lady Helen Clyde, 



ABRAM LENT SMITH 



1_3 



'Aye me ! for aucht that I could ever rend, 
Could ever hear by tale or history, 
The course of true love never did run smooth." 



/ 









NEW YORK : 

CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. 
1882. 



iPPWASHlt*®^ 



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Moss Enobaving Co., N. Y., 
Engravers & rrinters. 






COPYRIGHTED 



By ABRAiM LENT SMITH 



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Dedicated to my friend, RicJim-d Henry Stoddard, 
to whom I am indebted for one long series of kind- 
nesses, from onr friendship's beginning. 




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TTAVE you leisure for a story? Listen to this 
song I sing you; 
Draw your chair beside the fire ; heap the irons 
with wood well dried : 
And as upward leap the blazes, from the long ago I'll 
bring you 
Memories of the hapless love of Lady Helen 
Clvde. 



Pure and fair, of queenly bearing, she was like the 
stately lilies ; 
Some were wont to call her haughty, but the 
word was ill applied ; 
Lovely as the Houris was she, graceful as the 
daffodillies ; 
And her eyes were so bewitching, suitors came 
from far and wide. 



3 

With her father, proud and noble, lived she in a 
stately palace, 
(Years agone her mother left her for a brighter, 
happier sphere) : 
Thus she reigned its only mistress, but that draught 
from Sorrow's chalice 
Filled her youthful life with care,— brought melan- 
choly near. 



But to mitigate her sorrow, to divert his child from 
dreaming, 
Lord Clyde thronged his spacious mansion with 

the noble and the great, 
And with music, art, and dancing, strove to win the 
native beaming 
Back into her tear-dimmed eyes, and make her 
heart elate. 

5 

And this was wise, for oftentimes her spirit would 
grow lighter, 
Her cheeks would flush to crimson, her eyes like 
stars would burn ; 
And overjoyed her father was, whene'er her face grew 
brighter, 
But too steeped in worldly matters the true secret 
to discern. 



There was one among the many whom she loved, but 
scarce revealed it, 
And this one among the many also loved but 
dare not speak ; 
He was but an humble artist, without riches, — so 
concealed it, 
Hid the love that thrilled his heart, and mantled 
in his glowing cheek. 

7 

And he longed to paint her picture, so one day the 
honor asked her, 
And with all the coy abandon of a nymph she 
said, " you may ; " 
Then w ith brain and bosom fired, he each day an hour 
tasked her 
'Til his beauteous creation stood out peerless in 
array. 



8 

But I doubt much, if with weariness she ever were 
less laden, 
Than while with her artist-lover, as each day his 
genius strove 
To portray the ethereal features of this more than 
lovely maiden ; 
For 'twas during these bright hours, that he 
whispered of his love. 



As she hearkened to his story— O ! to her 'twas music 
rarest, 
Sweeter than the woodland's chorus showered on 
the fragrant breeze ; 
O ! they loved as such souls can love — deep — as did 
those four the fairest. 
Hero and her brave Leander, Abailard and 
Heloise. 



lO 

Never were there two more suited in this world for 
one another ; 
Both had souls filled with the beautiful, had 
natures, noble given ; 
He was fashioned Ganymede-like, and appeared her 
spirit's brother ; 
She had form akin to angels, and seemed less of 
earth than heaven. 

II 

But there was a cruel distance 'twixt these lovers' 
different stations ; 
She was bred a noble lady, he was but a peasant 
born ; 
And her proud and haughty father ne'er would sanc- 
tion such relations. 
To degrade the princely honors of his line, his 
soul would scorn. 



12 

Time on agile wings sped swiftly, months rolled 
onward into seasons. 
And a score of high-born suitors for her hand had 
been denied ; 
But so kind and gentle was she, each one felt mayhap 
her reasons 
Might evanish and be o'ercome if he lingered by 
her side. 

13 

But her vain, ambitious father, to advance his family 
honor. 
Urged the wooing of a rich and noble Duke of 
high degree ; 
He had ships and costly manors, he had gold to 
cast upon her. 
And he lived in regal splendor in a castle by 
the sea. 



So this Duke, bestarred and gartered, Lady Helen 
grandly courted, 
Brought her necklaces of rubies, precious pearls 
and diamonds rare ; 
Said she should become his consort (never dreaming 
to be thwarted), 
Said her life should be all sunshine, alien to all 
grief and care. 

15 

But to this proud Duke's amazement, (and her father's 
great displeasure), 
Lady Helen calmly told him, that she could not 
be his bride, 
Courteously refused his presents, and in words of 
friendly measure. 
Hoped he'd wed with one more worthy — gently 
thus his suit denied. 



i6 

With choleric indignation, Lord Clyde asked his 

lovely daughter, 

Why her will to his ran counter, why she did 
not acquiesce ? 

Swore she ne'er should wed another, that her willful- 
ness and hauteur 
Yet would bring disgrace upon her, mar her 
future happiness ! 

17 

" Father," said she, with a meekness w'orthy of a soul 
seraphic, 
"Would }'ou have me wed a husband, who can 
offer naught but gold ? 
One who values not love's dower, onh' dreams of 
ships and traffic ? 
No— I'm sure you would not, father, have me 
into slavery sold." 



" Tush ! my child ! they'll prove your ruin, such fan- 
tastic speculations; 
Know you not the Duke has riches, which your 
wants would more than sate ? 
Think how great would be your honors, and where'er 
you wt;nt, ovations 
Would be rendered if you wisely linked yourself 
with such a mate." 

"Praise is but a bubble, father — wealth perhaps may 
prove no treasure. 
But a soul with true love pulsing, is a thing that 
never dies ; 
Noble deeds, not gold, make greatness ; loving 
hearts, not titles, measure 
Claims to happiness on earth, or joy beyond 
the skies." 



20 

" Helen," said her father, " hear me ; banish from your 
mind forever 
All such sentimental notions — they will bring 
you, child, but ill ! " 
But with sweetness, yet with firmness, Lady Helen 
answered, "Never! 
Never, father, 'till my heart shall in this breast 
be still ! 

21 

"Hear me, father, hear m\' story; there is one I'll 
wed or no man ; 
I would rather choose a cottage than a castle by 
the sea ! 
Is he noble ? Aye, believe me, noble as the noblest 
Roman — 
Father, 'tis our gifted friend, the artist, Mortimer 
Du Vee." 



" Silence, girl ! " exclaimed her father, " never shall 
your wish be granted ! 
Rather would I see you lying, cola and still, to 
wake no more ; 
He shall leave our home this moment, he who has 
your wits enchanted. 
And he ne'er again as guest shall cross the 
threshold of our door ! " 



With an eloquence of silence and a rhetoric of 
sadness, 
Helen gazed upon her father for a while — then 
softly said : 
" Be it so ! " 'Twas all she uttered ; but, alas ! the 
wonted gladness 
Ne'er regained its old dominion; for her heart 
in secret bled. 



24 

All that night within her chamber Lady Helen, 
broken-hearted, 
Watched the moonbeams weirdly falling on the 
silver waves below ; 
Thought and wept about her lover, who that evening 
had departed. 
And the great, pure stars in heaven paled 
beneath her hopeless woe. 

25 

Months rolled on, but brought no tidings from the 
hero of our story ; 
Day by day sweet Lady Helen's face did thin- 
ner, paler grow ; 
'Til she heard the angels call her from the gleaming 
gates of glory. 
When she whispered, "Father, kiss me once 
again before I go." 



26 

But the proud old man was ireful — did not see his 
child was drooping 
Like a parched and pallid lily, for the water he 
might give. 
"Ere you go? What is your meaning; what new 
riddles are you grouping ? 
Do you think to leave out palace — in some 
humbler place to live ? " 

27 

"Yes, I think to leave it, father; but I go to one far 
dearer, 
Grander, richer, and more lovely than I e'er have 
seen before ; 
In my dreams last night I saw it, and I feel to-day 
I'm nearer 
To the home of the Immortals, than I e'er have 
been before." 



28 

Like a vivid flash of lightning, on a night of darkness 
utter, 
Flashed the truth on his proud spirit that her 
life was ebbing fast ; 
Thin and pale he saw her face was, and his heart 
began to flutter 
As he marvelled at his blindness, now the truth 
was seen at last. 

29 

Long he gazed in silence at her, then on brow of 
fever kissed her ; 
Said, with voice of deep contrition, "Is there 
aught that I can do? 
Name it, darling, never fearing"— and the tears began 
to ; lister. 
As remorseful thought, unsparing, brought the 
cruel past to view. 



30 

"Bend thine car, I have a message; draw yowr chair 
beside me, nigher — 
Hark ! methinks I hear his footsteps borne upon 
the passing wind ? 
No — 'twas my disordered fancy — father, draw the cur- 
tain higher, 
For the light is growing dim : your hand I 
cannot find ! 

31 

"There! now listen to me, father, — when the last 
sleep I am sleeping. 
Take this packet that I give you, and if he still 
lives below. 
Send it — whatsoe'er the distance — there ! I leave it 
in your keeping^ — 
'Tis a note, with some few trinkets, that he gave 
me long cigo." 



32 

•' Helen, I will do it for you, do it with a heartfelt 
gladness — 
O ! Remorse, thy sting is bitter ; would that I 
could flee thee, far ! 
What a wretched man I must be, to surround my child 
with sadness, 
'Til the angels, out of pity, steal away my 
morning star ! " 

33 

Long he stood in thought ; then quickly left the 
room with footsteps hurried — 
Soon a courier, under orders, dashed out through 
the palace gate : — 
Lord Clyde watched his faithful servant, for his heart 
was sorely worried — 
Much he feared he could not bring her lover ere 
it was too late. 



34 

All that night 'twould take to reach him ; but by 
sunset on the morrow, 
Circumstances all propitious, Mortimer could with 
them be : 
So when next day waned to evenini;, Lord Clyde hope 
began to borrow ; 
For his child was yet alive, and Helen's lover 
near must be ! 

35 

"Cheer up, Helen," said her father, "Mortimer Du 
Vee is flying, 
Just as fast as my fleet charger can transport 
him from the 111 ain ; 
But too long I know Vv.p waited ; for, my child, I 
fear you're dymg, 
And I fain would have you, Helen, meet your 
lover once again." 



36 

" I have cruel been, my daughter, and I would I 
could undo it ! 
I had hoped to have you marry with that Duke 
of high degree ; 
But my course was wrong — I see it ! as I sadly now 
review it, 
And I would to God you'd married with your 
artist-love, Du Vee ! " 

37 

Helen gazed upon her father, smiled, and in a voice 
keyed sweetly. 
Said, "You've made me very happy, and I now 
can calmly die. 
Hark! dear father, he is coming — some one rides 
the roadway fleetly — 
No ! it is no airy fancy, for I feel his spirit 
nisrh." 






\\\" v\\ 




38 

Up her father sprang ; for surely, some one rode at 
rate most furious 
O'er the bridge, and through the gateway, up 
the path to castle door ; 
Then a page in waiting entered, with a look of 
wonder curious. 
Gave " My lord " a slip of paper — on it " Mor- 
timer — " no more. 

39 

" Show him in," said Lord Clyde, quickly; "hasten — 
time is very precious ! " 
Soon a form of manly bearing stood within the 
sick-room door. 
Lord Clyde pointed to his daughter, gave his hand 
in welcome gracious, 
"Hasten." said he, "to her bedside, for she soon 
will be no more." 



40 

Helen recognized her lover, as he tenderly bent o'er 
her, 
And she gave her hand in welcome, and he 
kissed it o'er and o'er ; 
Smoothed aback her golden tresses, asked if aught 
he could do for her — 
"Only this," she sweetly murmured — "meet me 
on the other shore. 

41 

" Hark ! what means that burst of music ? See ! 
they're waiting to receive me ! 
Don't you see them ? soft— they're calling— all ! 
how light it grows," she cried. 
"O! what beauty— Hark! the music— farewell, father; 
now I leave thee ! 
Farewell, Mortimer," she whispered— and within 
his arms she died. 



42 

What more would you have me tell you ? I might 
make the story longer, 
But the wood is burned to embers and the hour 
is waxing late — 
Partings here are not forever ; true love is a thing 
far stronger 
Than all time can ever weaken or chill death 
can dissipate. 

43 

And the losses and the crosses, in this world by sor- 
row nighted, 
Blossom into fair fruition just beyond the mystic 
sea, — 
Where true hearts that here were plighted and by 
circumstances blighted, 
Will forever be united thro' a vast Eternity. 



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